The Fair Maiden KalEl
by Esperanza
Summary: Replaced 'cuz the uploading didn't quite work. Clark's in college, and gay. (Sad, I know.) And, funny thing...so's Richie...slash alert! The Rating will be for a reason!


**Author's Notes:** Okay, so this is the result of lots of Smallville, lots of Highlander, and no sleep. Co-written with Jesoba, bless her. I'm sorry I broke your bed. Um...HEY! Guys, readers, my dear, dear friends...we need a beta! Desperately. So...anybody want to volunteer, drop me a line, and we will be glad to make use of you. Um...there's a plot in this...somewhere...but it's mostly fluff. Fluff is good.

**Feedback:** Better than watching a threesome between Lex, Clark, and Richie. With chocolate.

**WARNING:** This is slash, people! Hot boy on boy action! Go away if it is not your cup of tea. We'll send scones and crumpets.

The Fair Maiden Kal-El Chapter One 

            "Okay, Chloe, why am I taking this class?"

            "Because it's required, you doofus."

            Clark Kent grinned at his short blonde friend.  "And those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it in summer classes."

            Chloe Sullivan laughed as the professor entered.  "Hello. I'm Professor Duncan MacLeod."

-------------------

            Two in the morning, and Duncan was returning to his nearby apartment when he felt the presence of an Immortal.  Well, damn.

            He followed the feeling to a construction site, the new East Hall.  "I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod."

            "Quentin Adams," the brunette replied, brandishing a saber.

            "Let's get this done with, then."  Duncan unsheathed his ancient katana.  "You know, we really don't have to do this.  You don't know me.  I don't think I know you.  We can both just walk away from this.**"**

            "And miss the chance to take the great Duncan MacLeod's head?  You must be joking."

            "Not usually."

Adams shrugged and attacked

--------------------

            Clark checked his backpack as he headed back for his dorm.  Papers, papers...swords?  He glanced around.  Dammit, he had gone to X-ray vision again.  He thought he had gotten better at that.  Hang on...the freshman concentrated.  Two figures, holding swords?  And fighting?  And was that Professor MacLeod?

            Quickly glancing around, Clark used his trusty super-speed to get to the construction site, just in time to grab Adams' arm.  "Shouldn't play with sharp pointy objects."

            Quentin struggled futilely to remove his arm from Clark's all-too-strong grip.  "Let me go, boy, or you're as dead as he is."

            "See, not really getting that," Clark smiled, and ripped the sword from Adams' grip and taking him by the scruff of the neck.

            "Mr. Kent, let him go."

            Clark shot his teacher an incredulous glance.  "Professor, you do realize he just tried to kill you.  And why do you have a sword, anyway?  Granted, less likely to go off than a gun..."

            "You're hurting him, Mr. Kent."

            "Oh, right."  Clark loosened his grip just enough, and Adams broke free.

            "We'll finish this," he growled and ran off.

            Duncan restrained Clark with a hand on his arm.  "Let him go."

            "But..."

            "Mr. Kent, let him go."

            Clark scrubbed a hand through his dark hair.  "You live nearby, right?"

            "Yes..."

            "He could come back.  And why do you have a sword again?"

            "I'll walk you home.  He could come back.  And why do you have a sword again?"

            "I brought it for a visual aid for the class I'm teaching on medieval Japan"****

            "And, what, he's part of the demonstration?"

            Despite himself, Duncan laughed.  "I'll see you in class."

            "Heck no.  Walking you home."

            "No. You are not."

        "If he comes back, you can get just as hurt."

            "I also have his...sword.  Okay, see, this is just weird.  But I'm coming with you."

            "No."

            "I'm bigger than you are."

            Duncan laughed harder at the absurdity.  "What?"

            Clark flushed.  "I mean, I'm bigger.  So he'll see me first and go away.  Yeah."

            MacLeod studied his student.  Strange boy.  Stubborn, too, from the tightening of his mouth.  "Fine.  This way."

            Clark grinned and follows.

--------------

            Richie Ryan looked up as he sensed his teacher.  He was sitting on the steps to MacLeod's apartment building for a late-night drink, and had been for, oh, thirty minutes.  "Hey, Mac..." he trailed off as he saw Duncan accompanied by a kid Richie remembered seeing in class.  "Aren't you in my class?"

            "Yeah," Clark replied.

            "What happened?"

            "I was attacked, and Mr. Kent helped me," Duncan explained with a twist to his mouth.

            Richie began to laugh, so hard he had to lean over on the steps to keep from collapsing.  "Oh, that's rich.  Duncan MacLeod getting saved.  Thank you, God, for the justice."

            Clark looked adorably confused as Duncan glared daggers (insert snicker here) at the redhead.  "Mr. Kent," he almost growled.  "I'm home.  Thank you for your help."

            Richie was still snickering helplessly.  "S-sorry.  Hi.  I'm Richie Ryan."

            "Clark Kent.  Um...I guess I'll just go..."

            "Take my amused friend with you, if you will.  Perhaps he will need protecting."

            Richie just laughed some more.

            "Am I missing something here?" Clark asked, shifting from foot to foot.

            "Yes," Richie replied at the same time Duncan snapped, "No."  Softening his tone, Duncan continued, "Really, thank you, Mr. Kent.  But you had better go.  I'll see you at class."

            "And I'll walk you back," Richie grinned, finally stopping his laughter.  "It's right on the way to my place."

            "So, what happened?" The shorter man asked as they walked.

            Clark glanced over.  "Uh, I found Mr. MacLeod fighting with a guy, and stepped in.  Probably not a smart idea."

            "Nah, but it's good you did.  Mac's a pain in the ass, but him dying would suck."

            Clark looked over the redhead once more.  Okay, yes, he was gay.  A gay alien, the ultimate aberrant.  And this guy was hot.  And probably straight as a pool stick.  And that was so not the imagery he needed right now.

"How'd you two meet?"

            "Well, heh, kind of a funny story.  I tried to steal from him."

            Clark choked.  "Wh-what?"

            "Yeah.  I was...not an honorable kid."

            "Sounds like someone else I know."

"But you are now?"

            Richie grinned, a sharp flash of teeth visible in the dark.  "Kind still am.  Boy Scouts never really my thing."

            "I can see you in one of those cute little outfits."  And, GOD, Clark was FLIRTING.  Stop that, he scolded himself.

            Richie looked over at him, and the grin widened, became almost...evil.  "I don't really see the beanie hat."  And the pressure was off, except for the gleam in his eyes.

            Clark blushed, thankful for the dark, and pretended not to notice the way his stomach suddenly began to flutter and trying hard not to reach out and take Richie's hand reminding himself just how STRAIGHT Richie must band then fighting a grown as his earlier analogy came back to mind and the train of thoughts that followed…_"Straight as a pool stick, Richie with a pool stick, fucking Richie with his 'pool stick'"_ and thanking whatever powers were up there for it being night when he noticed his thoughts making him hard.  _"Unsexy thoughts need unsexy thoughts…Mom, I wonder how mom and dad are doing right now, maybe I should call them"_.

            Richie studied his companion.  Cute.  And that mouth...god.  He grinned again.  No stranger to same-sex relationships, he could feel the heat radiating from the young man.  And he hoped the attraction.  "So, there's the dorm, right?" He asked, smiling innocently.

            Clark was jerked back to his surroundings.  "Uh, yeah."  And proceeded to curse himself for being such a dork.****

            "Well, thanks for taking care of Mac.  I'll see you later."  Richie walked away, and then turned back.  "Hey, Clark?"

            "Yeah?"

            "You want to get a cup of coffee sometime?"

**End Author's Notes:** Reviews equal chapters.  More will come as soon as we get a beta...hint hint...


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